A Winter's Tale
by darveysecretsanta2018
Summary: Set in S7; an angsty mistletoe kiss has both Donna and Harvey doing some much needed soul searching. Darvey


**Prompt by lonely wayfarer ( _Thxnatos_): **S7 angsty mistletoe kiss

.

_'Everybody knows it's hard to be alone at this time of year.'_

'_This is ridiculous_,' he thought to himself as he watched lawyers, IT professionals, secretaries and receptionists swanning about in the next room. No one ever liked everyone as much as they pretended to at these types of events but Harvey didn't care enough to commit to the pretence, causing unnecessary tension and consequently resorting to the 'bar'.

It wasn't really a bar, not even set up in the executives' kitchen. It was the counter in the associates' kitchen, covered in alcohol and cocktails made by eager associates who were trying too hard to enjoy themselves.

Harvey wasn't a Scrooge, not really. He didn't hate Christmas; it just wasn't his favourite thing. It was hard to love the festive period when for over 20 years, he hadn't had the type of relationship with his family that he wished he could have. Arguing with his mother every time they were around each other, infuriating Marcus and, consequently, upsetting the children.

He was looking forward to the coming Christmas a little more, finally able to have a conversation with Lily that wouldn't end in someone storming out. He was nervous about it, feeling like he had to live up to an expectation of the perfect son and brother that he wasn't sure he'd be able to accomplish. But at least he had the chance, and it was all because of her.

That quick-witted, intelligent, kind-hearted woman whom he continually found himself captivated by even after 12 years. It was infuriating, really fucking infuriating. Even after everything that had happened, she still had a hold over him.

Truth be told, he'd been waiting for her to make an appearance, to walk into the kitchen and find him with scotch in hand, avoiding the overbearing festivities. Especially when, in a way, it was her fault he was even there. He didn't want to go home to an empty apartment, drink alone and fester, and she's the reason he's on his own now. Not that he's all too mad about it, because Paula was not Donna in spite of all his efforts to make it work, but he'd rather chance seeing the COO and listen to her tell him about her Christmas plans.

They didn't speak as much as they used to—or as much as he liked to—and he missed it. He missed Donna making sarcastic comments about her half-sister. He missed hearing her tell him about plans to go ice skating on December 26th or about the gifts she'd bought her parents and nephew. He missed hearing Donna talk about anything, truth be told.

He soon grew tired of the affair, taking one last swig of his drink before resigning to his office, avoiding Mike and Louis on his journey. They'd convinced him to attend, said it would be good for firm relations, but he'd come and he'd hated it so he absolutely wasn't going to stay.

Sauntering slowly down the corridor, he stopped when he reached her office, watching her tuck some files into a cabinet. Her red curls cascaded down her back, reflecting off of the dark green dress she wore. It hugged her figure tightly. Stopping an inch above her knee. A silver zipper ran the whole way down her back, Harvey's mind wandering into the forbidden.

"This is where you've been hiding," he said quietly, standing in her doorway.

His voice took her by surprise, pausing before she gently pushed the cabinet door shut.

"I've been busy," she replied, turning to face him. "Needed to get these done," she said, gesturing to the papers on her desk which she picked up and began to file elsewhere.

"Thought it was strange that you weren't trying to force eggnog down my throat," he joked. He'd missed this and it still felt somewhat uncomfortable—which was both of their faults and he was mad at the both of them for it.

"You actually went?" She asked in astonishment, face a picture of pleasant surprise, beaming smile appearing. She scoffed when he nodded, shaking her head while upholding her smile. "I can't believe I missed that." She chuckled and he did too, the room starting to warm up now the rapport had begun.

"Mike practically begged me," he quipped.

"What's Mike got that I haven't? Nothing I said the last two years could convince you to turn up." She feigned hurt and he smirked but, the reality was, he mainly went this year because of her.

Mike had joked, "maybe you'll grow the balls to get Donna under some mistletoe." He'd regretted it after the stern look and clipped, aggressive tone Harvey had dismissed him with. The younger lawyer having paused and run his hand through his hair in response to the icy atmosphere before telling Harvey it would just be nice to see him there, enjoying himself and getting involved with the rest of the firm.

He told himself he wouldn't go, then later told himself he'd go because he was managing partner and that was his job. He knew, deep down, that the allure of a certain redhead was the true temptation.

"What can I say? He just has that much of a hold over me," he admits with a shrug and pursed lips.

"Oh my god! Have you told Rachel yet?" Donna asked, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

"I'm too scared of her," he said plainly and she smirked before letting a giggle escape her lips. Harvey grinned, the reaction bringing him a happiness that seemed so familiar and yet so foreign all at once.

"What do you say we have a Christmas drink together?" He posed next, suddenly holding his breath because he wasn't entirely sure he should've asked. The answer didn't seem a certainty anymore, the daylight between them weighing down on his decision making.

"I don't know, Harvey, I have to get up early tomorrow to go to my parents'," she said regrettably, feeling deflated and sighing before biting her lip. What was she doing? She'd been waiting tiresomely for things to go back to normal and now, when there's the slightest glimmer of hope, she was turning him down. "Actually, no, it wouldn't be Christmas Eve if we didn't."

They both smiled, a concoction of relief and glee swirling within. They'd both pondered it, the possibility they wouldn't have this evening this year after everything that had happened, and it had depressed them both.

"Your office?" She suggested, sticking to the tradition, only for Harvey to tilt his head.

"My office isn't as nicely decorated as yours," he admits but he knows she already knew that. Not that she'd spent much time there recently but she knew him. Any decorations that had resided there over the last 12 years were sneaked in by Donna when he wasn't around. He glanced at the Christmas cards on a shelf, the lights around the shelving unit, the garland along her window ledge.

He somewhat missed it, his secretary placing things here and there until he got into the festive spirit. He'd never admit it, challenging her decisions—although he was actually very impressed by her eye for interior design—but he'd always secretly liked it and greatly appreciated it by the last day before their break for the holiday.

They both gravitated towards her decanter, Harvey picking up while she held the glasses in place for him to pour their usual drink into. She'd debated suggesting they grabbed a mulled wine from the kitchen but this was more them and it felt like home.

"What time are you leaving tomorrow?" Donna asked once they'd sat on her couch, sipping her drink.

"My flight leaves just before 10, you?"

"I plan to set off about then," she smiles, mind on Harvey's day and questions beginning to jumble around her brain.

"I, um," he began, hand slipping to the inside of his blazer. "I have something for you."

He pulled out an envelope, extending it to Donna who accepted it delicately, surprised by the gesture.

"It's not much, just…" He stopped speaking; she was Donna, she wouldn't care what it was, he knew she'd just appreciate the thought. He watched her unfold the top flap and gently pull the card out.

She smiled when she opened it, a photo residing within. The two of them with Rachel and Mike at a charity gala. It was everything, more than she ever expected. Coming from Harvey, this felt magical.

"Thank you," she grinned and she looked to him now. "You didn't have to," she continued, because he really didn't.

"You didn't get yourself a present this year."

Whether it was a statement or a question, he wasn't really sure, but he was both surprised and deflated to find an absence of her purchase. It made the cracks that had formed in their whatever-was-going-on-ship feel much more prominent and real.

"Well, I'm not your secretary anymore." It left a bitter taste in her mouth to say it. Not that she didn't love her new position—she really, truly did—but because she missed her old job and she was finding it difficult to adjust to seeing so much less of Harvey. Not only that, she was also sure the tensions between them really began when he promoted her and that was difficult to come to terms with.

He gulped, hard. Not because he wasn't happy for her. Because he missed her. Then, to top it all off, he didn't know how to reply because he didn't know where they stood with each other now. It was one big mess.

"You're still my friend, though." He bit the bullet, feeling more unsteady as soon as he felt the words form. Donna's lips parted and she stared back at him for a few moments.

"Am I?" She asked, an anxiety rising because she didn't know whether she wanted his answer, nor his potentially confrontational reaction. She didn't want an argument, just an end to the exhausting bullshit they'd been putting themselves through.

Harvey gave a curt nod but it didn't relieve the tension between them, an icy cool breeze sweeping the room. Until,

"There you both are," Louis practically shouted, appearing in the doorway wearing deer antlers. He was exasperated, cheeks red and beads of sweat on dripping down his face. "You're missing the party."

"We both have early starts tomorrow," Harvey excused.

"Oh, but we're going to play pin the tail on Rudolph soon and I'm Rudolph," Louis exclaimed excitedly. Donna and Harvey shared a look of concern and bemusement.

"I know what you're thinking, I don't look much like Rudolph," Louis stated plainly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red nose, attaching it to his face with a beaming grin. "See!"

They ended up joining the party fun to please Louis, but didn't stay quite an hour before sneaking into the elevator, Harvey promising to walk her home after giving Ray the night off. The Christmas Eve traffic would be nightmarish.

When they arrived at her building, her arm linked around his and both of them laughing about Louis' total lack of social awareness, the foyer was empty. A silence had fallen over the room, warmly lit, reflections of red, silver and gold filling the space. There was a large Christmas tree not far from the reception desk, covered in gold and red, lights sparkling at alternate intervals.

"You can come up and warm up, if you like?" She proposed once they'd walked inside. She saw him think about it, face glowing in the warmth.

"It is tempting," he muttered, but she could pre-empt his answer easily.

"But we've both got early starts and it's easy to turn one drink into ten," she returned. Harvey grinned, a slight chuckle escaping, before nodding.

"Yeah, something like that," he whispered before his eyes clocked onto something green above his head. He let them drift upwards, only now noticing the familiar, festive plant that was hanging between them.

Donna's eyes followed his, finding the mistletoe that she'd been completely oblivious to.

"I wonder how long that's been there," she murmured. "I've never noticed it before."

Mike's words were ringing in Harvey's ears, realising it really was now or never. Well, maybe not never, but how could he be sure he'd ever get the chance again? Maybe it was the alcohol, Dutch courage fuelling his desires and convincing him to do something he shouldn't, but that didn't mean he couldn't do it.

He leant in and didn't give it a second thought. Lips tenderly meeting hers, eyes fluttering shut. His hands left his pockets and found her face, where they rested gently on her cheeks.

It was a moment before she responded, softly kissing him back while a tingling overtook her. It was a surging wave of completion, an insatiable warmth filling her whole body, rooting her to the floor. It wasn't lust, perhaps one of the furthest things from lust she'd ever experienced when someone had kissed her. There was a familiarity to it, an element of déjà vu when a reminiscent flood of longing and fear began to rise within.

She suddenly grabbed his wrists and pulled her lips away, an emptiness replacing the warmth she'd found.

"Wait," she whispered, unable to look him in the eye. She didn't continue, hoping to hear words long anticipated yet never truly expected.

Unfortunately, Harvey was too overwhelmed to form them. They were there, right on the tip of his tongue, but they'd been silenced by the soft touch and magnetism of her taste. He felt dizzy in their clutches.

The silence was suddenly suffocating, strangling them and sucking the air out of their lungs.

"Why?" She whispered, eyes now finding his. Those eyes always made her feel weak and tonight was no exception. Big and brown and glistening, pulling her in and making her breath catch in her throat.

He went to speak, lips parting and inhaling a sharp breath… but he didn't know where to start. There was a niggle in the back of his mind telling him not to say anything because last time she didn't feel anything, and that wasn't very long ago at all.

"I," he muttered before swallowing and shaking his head. He averted his gaze, dropping his eyes to the floor. She nodded, resigned to this never-ending cycle of 'almost's and 'maybe's that they found themselves stuck in.

"Goodnight, Harvey," she whispered with a sad smile, before brushing past him towards the elevator doors. He didn't dare look towards her, stuck to the spot, wondering whether it was embarrassment or frustration or just plain old heartbreak that he could feel. And with it came so many questions.

His walk home felt longer than it actually was, twenty-five minutes feeling like an eternity. _Where would this leave them?_ Wondering whether things could ever go back to how they were—even if there didn't seem to be much chance of that before this night—and remembering when she'd told him she'd not felt a thing. If only he'd remembered it when they were stood under that doorway then maybe, just maybe, his chest wouldn't feel so achy and hollow.

Carrying this uncertainty into Christmas wasn't in his plans—nor hers—and he felt weighed down by the heavy realisation that he might lose her forever with no one to blame but himself. His wary hopes that he might at long last enjoy a cheerful, family Christmas felt dashed.

The bite of the winter air added to his discomfort, nipping at his neck and face, a shiver shooting right through him. He spotted a drunk, young couple falling out of their taxi together, hands all over each other and laughing loudly. He walked a little faster so he could pass by quicker, telling himself he wanted to get out of the cold but knowing he felt a jealousy emerge as soon as he saw them. It was everything he couldn't and wouldn't have but so torturously wanted. Instead, he'd be alone and left dreaming of Christmas nights better spent.

Donna felt the same, pouring herself another scotch because it reminded her of him. Savouring the taste because it was all she had.

Thinking about him wasn't adding any merriness to her Christmas. An unsettling ache in her chest took hold and she tipped her head back against the couch. She wanted him to tell her why, to stop her from slipping away. The silence scared her and she ran but how she wished she could've stayed and found the courage to ask.

She sucked in a sharp breath and closed her eyes for a minute or so, before remembering her early start and groggily heaving herself up from her seat.

Really, she could've stayed there longer. She barely caught a wink of sleep, drifting into a light slumber before being woken by a loud clatter and slurred shouting. A handful of voices were hushing each other noisily and she soon heard a slam of a door reverberate through her flat. At least her neighbours were enjoying their Christmas Eve and she felt a slight jealousy niggle away, waking her up even more and leading her to leave her bed.

She moved over to the floor-length window, making a gap in the curtains and peering out over the city, which was very much still awake. Taxis still covered the roads and groups of drunk friends staggered down the sidewalks, bright lights in the shapes of stars and stockings illuminating their every move.

Her mind turned to her colleagues, wondering when they left and how they got home, whether they were clumsily stumbling down the city footpaths while singing festive songs and laughing at things that don't make any sense.

She stood there for longer than she expected, watching the world go by below her and forgetting about _him_—who was also awake, putting one of his dad's records on when that familiar state of unconsciousness seemed to be getting further away.

When the morning rolled round, neither were feeling particularly in the holiday spirit. They begrudgingly got ready and travelled to their loved ones. Harvey found himself moaning and groaning while at the airport, on the plane, a small child staring at him curiously. She stared him down from across the aisle, frowning at him and his sighs. He wasn't entirely sure how to react when he noticed her. He soon gave a small smile before he pursed his lips and turned away again. He heard a small huff and looked back to her, seeing her snuggle into the side of her mother who, of course, turned out to be a redhead when he actually paid attention.

A bitter sting like salt in the wound surfaced, realising how tough the day was going to be.

She hadn't texted him before she left for Connecticut and it bothered him. Immensely. Every year on this day since she'd moved to his desk, she'd messaged him Merry Christmas and he'd sent it back. Even if the message was only small, it was so much more significant than it seemed. It didn't matter as much that he wasn't seeing his family because she'd thought of him.

He couldn't help but ponder the Christmas they could be having had he not been with Paula when Donna kissed him. Waking up with their arms and legs tangled together, engulfed by the scent of vanilla, drawing patterns between her freckles while he waited for her to wake. How much better that would be compared to waking up alone, bed cold and empty, mind falling back into the state of dread it left when he finally got some sleep.

He wafted the thoughts away, the dreams doing more harm than good. It could've all gone wrong. They mightn't have spent Christmas together and all hopes would be in tatters. And maybe he was being too cocky to assume things would be different, she did tell him nothing was there.

When the plane finally landed, he was relieved. He had something to focus on instead of getting down about a love that could've been but never seemed to arrive, the woman who stole his heart but never gave him hers.

It didn't take long for him to arrive at his mother's, ringing the doorbell. The place was beautifully decorated. A handmade wreath hung on the door—which was coincidentally a berry red colour—and a leafy garland with red and gold embellishments dressed the white porch. Sparkling white lights draped over the windows like frosty icicles made of tiny snowflakes.

Lily swung the door open with a gleeful grin, stepping aside so he could come in out of the cold. He was enticed by the smell of cinnamon and chocolate, the children's breakfast drinks clearly following the hot cocoa tradition. It was warm and inviting, feeling at home and remembering fun Christmases past, his mom and dad still happy and oblivious.

"Hey mom," he said, pulling her in for a hug.

"Merry Christmas, Harvey," Lily grinned before letting go. "Come on, the kids are in the sitting room, Katie's just checking on the turkey."

"What about Marcus?" Harvey asked, taking off his coat and hanging it on the bannister before picking his bag of presents back up.

"I told you, the kids are in the sitting room," she smirked and her son chuckled, following her in.

"Uncle Harvey!" Hayley and Riley squealed, running up to hug their uncle.

They soon began to hand out presents, Harvey's niece and nephew tired of waiting. He watched them open the presents he was instructed by Marcus to buy, his brother joking that adults don't mind terrible present buying as much as kids do. It was a fair statement, he really was a terrible gift giver, and the adults simply received expensive bottles of alcohol.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," Lily muttered, reaching beneath the tree. "This turned up for you the other day."

She handed Harvey a white envelope with cursive handwriting on the front. His name and his mother's address, slightly puzzling if he didn't recognise the handwriting. It made him feel a little nauseated and breathless, the last thing he expected to receive.

He tore it open, his family eagerly waiting to see who it was from. He pulled out a bright red card with words such as 'joy', 'hope', 'love' and 'happiness' puzzled together in green, yellow and white. He was confused, no card screamed Harvey less than this one—it belonged to the overbearing, gushing mom at the school gates who wrote sappy messages to people she barely knew.

_'After wondering what to get the man who has everything, I decided I'd have to get you something you'd hate._

_Donna'_

He chuckled before looking up to his family, swallowing before speaking.

"It's from Donna," he said calmly, brushing it off as unimportant. Marcus cocked a brow, smirking and nodding as if there was an unspoken understanding.

The rest of the day was difficult for both Harvey in Boston and Donna in Connecticut. Sitting amongst their families, surrounded by festive cheer and yet, they felt plagued by a loneliness that had crept in the night before and they'd been unable to shake off. It was laying heavily enough on their hearts to cause an exhausting, niggling pain.

Donna had tried to constantly busy herself but it was sitting down in the evening, after her nephew had gone to bed, the family sitting around with drinks in hand and a Christmas movie on television that it really hit her. Wallowing in her armchair with wine in hand and hardly paying an inch of attention to the romance on the screen ahead.

Harvey found himself doing the same, with whiskey rather than wine. It was almost suffocating, the romance in the movie and the couples sat with him.

He left the next day, choosing solitude in the comfort of his own home. He'd done his bit and, in spite of the loneliness, it had been fun. Overwhelming, though. The first time in a long time he'd not spent Christmas alone and it was a lot to take in, even if he did enjoy it.

Donna's mom was adamant her daughter wouldn't be driving home when sheets of snow covered the streets.

On the Monday that she was supposed to be in work, the day she'd readied herself for mentally because seeing him was so daunting, she instead found herself gazing out of a window at her parents', grasping a coffee and watching the children across the road play among the glistening white that fell the day before.

"Can we build a snowman too?" Came a small voice beside her: her nephew, William. His light brown hair slightly scruffy and face plastered with a hopeful smile. "It will make you smile," he said quietly but it tugged at a part of her she didn't know had shown.

"You don't think I've been smiling?" She asked softly, looking down to him.

"Not as much, even on Christmas Day," he admitted with sad eyes.

She gulped down a mouthful of coffee, not realising how her feelings about Harvey had plagued not only her Christmas but her family's too. A feeling of guilt creeping in, wrapping around her throat and making everything feel a little heavier.

"Gran said that it's probably," he paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Harry? Or Harvey?" He said questioningly, not sure he knew the right name. "Mom said it's always him you're hung up on. What does that mean?"

"It means I care about him," she replied quietly, "and I think about him a lot because of it."

"Can you think about my snowman instead? Please?" He asked with begging eyes that no aunt could ever resist. She nodded, told him to get ready and they'd go outside soon, before returning to the comfort of the coffee between her hands.

It was distracting and fun, building the snowman as a family, and she was glad she joined in. She wasn't thinking about Harvey whatsoever, her mood lifting for the rest of the day. Until evening crept around, then her mind returned to _him_ and she wallowed once more.

Donna drove back the next morning—New Year's Eve, as it happened to be—after she opened her curtains to find the streets had significantly thawed out. Barely a trace of the happiness from the day before remained, a small mound of snow in the place of their snowman.

She barely entered her apartment before leaving again, dropping her things off and getting changed before hurrying to work. She told herself that if she could get through the day without seeing him, it would be perfectly fine.

Much to her surprise, the day went mostly to plan. She confined herself to her office more than usual but it turned out a benefit, Donna managing to get more work done than she'd first anticipated. Rachel had popped by to check that she was still on board to celebrate the arrival of the new year—she was—and the visit added a spring to her step.

It was only once night had fallen that her plan failed.

Arriving at Robert's for the Zane's party, wearing a burgundy dress that hugged her figure, she was met by music and laughter and a jumble of conversations resonating around the room. She sauntered inside, smiling and saying brief hellos before finding Rachel in the kitchen serving up platters of food; an array of aromas tickled her nose.

"You're here!" The brunette exclaimed excitedly, placing down the tray of samosas and moving to hug her friend, who was more than happy to accept the embrace.

"I said I'd come," she smiled in response.

"Let me get you a drink," Rachel beamed, only for Donna to stop her.

"No, you're doing more than enough. Let me help you," she insisted and Rachel gave a resistant yet relieved smile.

"You won't take no for an answer, will you?" Rachel asked, receiving a look from the redhead that told her as much, taking a platter from her and following her lead.

"Where's Mike, anyway?" Donna asked once they'd laid the food across the grand dining table, covered by a navy blue table cloth.

"He's sorting out the fireworks guys. The ones we'd booked cancelled so he and Harvey are finding a last-minute replacement," Rachel replied with a roll of her eyes, though Donna barely noticed it beyond the rise of nausea she felt.

"Harvey's coming?" She asked, searching for denial but anticipating the confirmation. She was reaching for a drink now, desperate to feel the warmth of the champagne bring her back down to earth.

"Yeah, for once," she responded nonchalantly. She watched Donna swallow, gulping the liquid down hard and saw immediately through the strained smile. "What is it? Has something happened?" She asked out of both worry and intrigue. She wanted to add an 'again' but thought she'd hold onto that until the dust had truly settled.

Donna sombrely shook her head, blocking out the image of his speechless, guilt-wrecked face from Christmas Eve.

"Nothing," she mumbled but Rachel very evidently wasn't satisfied with the answer when a gentle hand found Donna's shoulder. "It's a story for another day."

Rachel gave her a look that asked if she was sure, to which Donna simply nodded.

She was cautiously moving around for the rest of the night, careful to avoid him, thinking she'd gotten away with it until she went outside for fresh air away from Louis' insistence she sing and Robert and Laura's drunk friends. That was when she saw him, about to turn around when he turned to face her. '_These goddamn shoes_,' she thought to herself, their echoes against the patio being the only reason he could've heard her.

"Hey," he said softly, taken aback slightly and she wondered whether he'd been avoiding her too.

"Hey," she returned, a sharpness cutting through unintentionally.

"You avoiding Louis?" He asked and she paused; _had he been watching?_

"Something like that," she muttered in response, a quietness engulfing the pair, standing side by side, drinks in hand.

"I didn't know you'd be here," she said eventually.

"Would you still have come if you did?" He asked and, for once, she wasn't sure whether he was joking or asking seriously. Frankly, neither did her. This blurriness was becoming all too frequent. The only response she could muster was a smile, words seeming to fade away whenever he was near.

"I wanted to see you," he revealed, wary of how she'd take it. He was met by big, bambi-like eyes of surprise. "But you clearly don't want to see me," he continued solemnly and she felt her mouth turn dry, confused as to when Harvey Specter learned how to confess such a truth.

"What did you expect?" She asked, clipping her words, letting emotions take over her sensibility.

"I don't know," he whispered, looking into his glass before sipping on his scotch.

"Why did you do it?" Her throat felt constricted, looking up to him and waiting eagerly and fearfully for the response she could be met with. He gazed back at her but seemed to lose his voice once more, the words escaping him and he wanted to curse himself for it. And, worst of all, he couldn't tell what she wanted to hear. Did she want the truth or a glossed over lie about alcohol and Christmas tradition?

"Do you want to forget it ever happened?" He asked cautiously, the look of resolution and frustration on her face telling him it was the wrong question to ask and he was so goddamn mad at himself.

"I don't think that's going to be possible," she admitted, eyes turning glassy and voice wavering and, man, he just wanted to hold her. To envelop her in his arms and cling on tightly, never to let go again. "You made me promise to never do it again, then you blindside me with it and can't even tell me why."

He wanted her to be angry with him, shout the words his way, but she just sounded disappointed. That stung more than any argument they'd had because the hurt he'd caused was laid out plainly in front of him, yet he didn't have the words to remedy it.

"Tell me how to fix it," he pleaded, voice shaky and jaw tense. He noticed goose bumps had graced her skin and wanted to warm her up, give her his jacket and hold her close. Instead, he felt like he was the one to put them there and nothing he could do could fix it, no matter how desperate he was.

She just looked at him with a pained expression, tucking her hair behind her ear, not knowing what he could do if he didn't already know, convincing herself she'd fallen like a fool into a hole with no ladder and he couldn't even offer a hand to help her out.

"Donna," he said, urging for an answer, using the tone that made her weak at the knees and desperate for him to be hers.

She opened her mouth to speak but the wave of noise caused her head to look the other way, seeing the other guests leave the warm confines of the Zane residence to ring in the new year.

Neither knew what to do, not wanting to walk away but feeling like they had to, so they stood where they were with the chasm between them. Their friends emerged, filling that empty space and counting down, excitement and alcohol coursing through their cheerful bodies that Donna and Harvey envied to no end.

And the year changed with cheers and fireworks and the singing of songs, and Harvey and Donna wondered whether maybe, just maybe, he could tell her what he wanted and why he did it this year. But their hope had dwindled a little more and their weariness stretched a little further and neither knew if the life they wanted was ever going to be theirs.


End file.
